CHAPTER 38: THE DARK DESCENT
It was probably the worst day of Harry's entire life. He, Ron, Fred and George sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Percy and Alfred weren't there. They'd both gone to send letters to their parents (or guardian, in Alfred's case) and only Percy had returned, muttering something about Alfred needing to go to the bathroom, and then shut himself up in his dormitory.
Harry felt rather guilty for not being there for Alfred. The Weasleys were all upset enough about Ginny, but Alfred had completely broken down when he heard Matthew was quite possibly dead. Both Harry and Ron had been so shocked to see the usually so cheerful boy break down in tears that they hadn't been able to provide the comfort and reassurances they should have. Not that they'd been in the best state to be cheering someone up, of course. Now it seemed Harry had lost two of his best friends to the Chamber of Secrets, and it was quite possible he wouldn't be getting one of them back.
No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.
"She knew something, Harry," said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was –" Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason. And Matthew…" He frowned. "Why would they take Matthew? He didn't know any more about the Chamber than we did… he knew even less, actually. He didn't know the monster was a Basilisk…"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe he found out something." He could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something they could do. Anything.
"Harry," said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all they're not – you know –" Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't see how Ginny and Matthew could still be alive. "D'you know what?" said Ron. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a Basilisk in there."
Because Harry couldn't think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to be doing something, he agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole. Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, hurried footsteps, and loud voices. Well, one loud voice. One loud, familiar voice.
Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door was flung open by the owner of that familiar voice. "Dudes, I was wondering when you'd show up!" Alfred almost shouted. Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling again, even if there was a worrying manic edge to it. "I was just going to ask Glinda here to let me come along to save Mattie, but… well…" He took a step to the side and gestured to the office.
It had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk. And in the middle of it, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, stood Professor Lockhart. "Er… h-hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," he stammered. "I, um, j-just received a u-urgent call… g-got to go…"
"Oh, yeah, the call of cowardice is totally unavoidable," snarled Alfred with a look so fierce Harry felt genuinely frightened of him for a moment. Then he turned back to them and the smile was back in place. "I tried to find the entrance to the Chamber by myself, but I couldn't, so I decided to give Glinda a try and unsurprisingly that failed miserably. I don't suppose you two have figured it out?"
"No," said Harry. He turned on Lockhart, who seemed to visibly shrink under his glare. "Are you running away? After all that stuff you did in your books?"
"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.
"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.
"Yeah, but that doesn't exactly mean it's true, does it?" said Alfred. "He told me all about it. His books are basically the longest, most lucrative self-insert fanfiction that ever existed." Everyone else in the room stared at him in confusion. He rolled his eyes and explained, "Okay, you know all those adventures he wrote about? He wasn't the one who did them. He just stole the stories from the people who were actually the heroes and then wiped their memories so they wouldn't be able to contradict him when he wrote himself as the main character."
During Alfred's speech, Lockhart had been finishing his packing. "Let's see," he said as he banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left." He pulled out his wand and turned to them. "Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book…"
Harry reached for his wand, but Alfred was quicker. Before Lockhart could utter a sound the American had put him into what looked like a very painful arm-hold. "Listen here, Sparkles," he growled into the professor's ear. "My brother's trapped in that Chamber going through God knows what, so I'm not exactly feeling patient. Drop your wand, or I break your arm. Understood?" Lockhart let out a squeak and dropped the wand obediently. "Good boy." Alfred released him, picking up the wand from the floor. "So, what do you dudes want to do with him?" he asked, his normal cheerful demeanor back with such suddenness he should have gotten whiplash.
Harry deliberated for a moment, then said, "We'll bring him with us. He said he'd rescue Ginny and Matthew. Might as well have him keep that promise."
Alfred shrugged. "All righty, dude." He grabbed Lockhart by the back of the collar. "Come on, then, Glinda, we're off to the bathroom! Lead on, Harry!" And so the four of them made their way through the halls of the castle until finally they reached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Alfred pushed Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see the professor was shaking.
Harry and Ron both gasped in shock as they entered the bathroom. It looked as if a small hurricane had ravaged it. Broken pieces of stone, porcelain, wood and mirror were all scattered across the floor. Just about everything looked broken. A white bear cub noticed their arrival and delicately picked his way over to them, avoiding the debris. "What took you so long?" he asked Alfred.
"Met some friends along the way," said Alfred, pointing to Harry and Ron. He seemed to notice their horrified expressions and added, "Hey, I said I tried to find the entrance, didn't I?"
Ron stared at him. "You did this?! I thought there was another troll loose in the castle?"
Alfred laughed. "I'm gonna take that as a compliment!" He looked around the shattered remains of the bathroom. "So… how were you guys planning on finding the entrance?"
"By asking her," said Harry, pointing to the toilet Moaning Myrtle had just appeared upon.
"Who- AH GOD GHOST! STRATEGIC-" Alfred suddenly cut himself off and shut his eyes. "No… no strategic retreat today, I need to save Mattie. Er… you guys don't mind handling this, do you?" Then he went into a corner and covered his ears, as if to erase all evidence that he was in the same room as a ghost.
The conversation with Moaning Myrtle was fruitful, to say the least. She pointed them to just about the only sink in the room that had remained untouched by Alfred's rampage. After a thorough examination and an order in Parseltongue, it began to move. It sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into. "Did you find anything yet?" asked Alfred, gingerly removing his hands from his ears.
"Mate, we just found the entrance!" replied Ron.
Alfred turned, saw the pipe, and let out a happy shout. He ran over to them, looking at the entrance eagerly. "Well, what are we waiting for, dudes?" he asked breathlessly. "Let's go down there, already!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Harry saw his own determination reflected in Ron's eyes. They couldn't not go down, not now. Not if there was the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny and Matthew might be alive. They both nodded.
Lockhart noticed. "Well, you hardly seem to need me," he said, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just-"
"Aw, HELL NAW!" Alfred grabbed him by the back of the collar again and dragged him back over to the pipe. "You're going in first, buddy." And then he threw the professor head-first down the pipe. Ignoring Harry and Ron's incredulous looks, he gave them a cheerful salute, said, "See you on the other side, dudes!" and jumped straight in.
A/N: We're getting so close! I feel really excited about writing this now that we're at the climax! HUGS! \(^-^)/ Okay, now for Q&A! To RussianMochi: I didn't mean for it to seem like CanadaxGinny. The girl's just going through a lot at the moment, she needs a hug. And as for Riddle... we'll have to see, now won't we? :D To Serebiiet: Canada's had some bad experiences competing against America. They'll stay for the Yule Ball. The only ones who went to Hogwarts were England and his siblings and maybe some of his colonies. All the rest went to nearby schools. And thanks for being so nice! To Marzue: All shall be explained in time. To SoulxMakaLover37: I'd choose the hug power. I feel like if people were nicer a whole lot of the world's problems would be solved. As for the second request... Me: CANADA! Canada: Huh? Who are you? Me: IT DOESN'T MATTER HUUUUUUUGGGGSSSSS! *tackle-hugs* Canada: Wha- Who are you and why are you hugging me, eh?! To SilentMoonLace13: OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM! Coooookkkkiiiiieeeeessss... Thank you all once again for being awesome. Pages Left: 25. NEXT CHAPTER: Canada meets Tom M. Riddle. See you all next time!